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Here have a dollar |
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In fact now brotherman, here have two |
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Two dollars means a snack for me |
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But it means a big deal to you |
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Be strong, serve God only |
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Know that if you do, beautiful Heaven awaits |
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That's the poem I wrote for the first time |
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I saw a man with no clothes, no money, no plate |
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Mr. Wendal, that's his name |
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No one ever knew his name 'cuz he's a no one |
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Never thought twice about spending on an old bum |
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Until I had the chance to really get to know one |
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Now that I know 'em, to give him money isn't charity |
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He gives me some knowledge, I buy him some shoes |
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And to think blacks spend all their money on big colleges |
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Still most of you come out confused |
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Go ahead Mr. Wendal |
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Go ahead Mr. Wendal |
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Mr. Wendal has freedom |
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A free that you and I think he's dumb |
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Free to be without the worries of a quick to diss society |
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For Mr. Wendal's a bum |
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His only worries are sickness and occasional harassment |
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By the police and their chase |
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Uncivilized we call him but I just saw him |
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Eat off the food we waste |
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Civilization, are we really civilized? |
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Yes or no, who are we to judge |
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When thousands of innocent man could be brutally enslaved |
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And killed over a racist grudge |
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Mr. Wendal has tried to warn us about our ways |
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But we don't hear him talk |
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It's not his fault when we're goin' too far and we got too far |
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'Cuz on him we walk |
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Mr. Wendal, a man, a human in flesh but not by law |
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I feed you dignity to stand with pride |
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Realize now that all in all we stand tall |
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Go ahead Mr. Wendal |
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Mr. Wendal |
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Mr. Wendal |
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Mr. Wendal |
